Don't let the dead bite
by YumeNi92
Summary: I have the honor to present to you fanfiction about Hanami and Imayoshi from the anime "Kuroko no Basket". I wrote it with my friend and we both have hope that it will meet with a positive response.


**I have the honor to present to you fanfiction about Hanami and Imayoshi from the anime "Kuroko no Basket". I wrote it with my friend and we both have hope that it will meet with a positive response. I'm sorry for all the mistakes that I made in the translation. I hope that the text is readable enough. **

**I wish you pleasant reading. **

**Please let me know what you think about this story in the comments. **

**The next chapter soon.**

Fucking idiot. Purebred moron. Walking mistake. Man with disorders and talent to effectively ruining good humor. Hanamiya Makoto, also known as the number one of public bane, lay in his bed, covered with a thin coverlet. It's amazing how someone so broken, so annoying and so incorrectly toxic, can look so peaceful and so innocent while sleeping. This view certainly bordered on the absurd.

Imayoshi watched the boy for a while and felt an irresistible urge to throw him out of bed and tell him to make breakfast. He smiled to himself and kicked Makoto in the ass, appropriately intensely to wake him up. Meanwhile, he climbed out of bed and opened the window to ventilate the room stinking of sweat and sperm.

Before he left to the bathroom, he threw to Hanamiya last, hateful gaze, hoping that he will understand his intentions. They couldn't afford to rot in the bedroom. In the end, they had to go to Seirin's match, and later to the library.

On not very gentle wake-up call Makoto responded by charming profanity, nearly falling out of bed at the same time. Brushing wisps of his hair, has sent to boy the ugliest of possible smile, stressing his own aversion to that person, which was a kind of denial of everything what happened last night. But that was just their sick relationship.

"Fuck you." He hissed when he got out of bed.

Imayoshi's shower didn't last long. He wanted to just wash away the remnants of Makoto, which has been on his skin after last night. He hated that feeling. He felt simply dirty, but in spite of all he loved to fuck this idiot as long as he didn't lose his breath. He came out of the bathroom almost as soon as he entered there, except that he was now completely naked. Began to search through his wardrobe, where hang impeccably ironed shirts and pants.

"Toast with cheese and ham." He ordered a tone that brooked no opposition, and God, protect fools who dare to undermine his words.

"Don't flatter yourself." Imayoshi always played a lord and master, as long as Hanamiya didn't lose his patience. Then he just smiled stupidly, his tone of voice annoyingly became less brutal, and the words were sickly colored with plenty of sugar. He hated both of these versions wholeheartedly.

In the first place he took a shower and dressed his yesterday's clothes because he couldn't imagine to borrow anything from other boy. Then he went to the kitchen and contrary to a despotic order, he began to prepare scrambled eggs, on which he had now craving. It was obvious - he never liked commands.

When Imayoshi saw that the boy didn't obey him, he sighed by standinging behind him and relying chin on his shoulder. Scrambled eggs wasn't bad, but it was about obedience.

"Would you mind just once, to act like my sweet boyfriend and do for me what I want." The tone of his voice was frighteningly calm. It was perhaps the worst in him. You never know what he was about to do. Hug or mix him with mud? He grabbed with teeth the skin on Hanamiya's neck and with one hand pinched his nipple. He had to tease him, because otherwise he would be sick. Hanamiya, despite his nasty personality, in bed was irreplaceable and it was the only thing that was holding Imayoshi with him... Probably.

Makoto jerked violently. It was close, and he would hit the brunet with a wooden spoon. It's hard to say what exactly this "relationship" is based on - they both hated each other, and don't let eachother to forget about it. Sometimes, however, it happened that Hanamiya came to the house of his former senpai, they fucked to a loss of strength, and then everything returned to normal. He didn't remember the moment when it all began. He didn't know how he let this happen. But contrary to all norms of rationality, they both were in this toxic relationship for almost a year.

"You'll ate what I did or die of hunger, I don't care." He snorted, turned off the stove and reached for one bowl. He put a portion for himself, then took a piece of bread and sat down at the table. He wasn't going to handle this idiot. It was enough that he drove more eggs into the pan.

So Imayoshi handled himself and joined a meal at a small table. During breakfast they didn't speak to each other at all, they only occasionally exchanged discouraged, hateful glances. After all, Imayoshi threw the plates to the sink and nodded at the other boy.

"Move your fat ass. I don't want to be late for the first quarter." He growled going into the hall to get dressed properly.

Autumn was coming to an end, and the temperature outside had become unpleasant. Especially for such a thermophilic as Shouichi. He hated cold and became nervous at the thought of going outside. But he had no choice. He had to start writing a term paper, and for that he needed a library.

"I never said that my dream is to accompany you." Hanamiya hissed through clenched teeth, throwing on his jacket and going out of the apartment before dark haired. Apparently he wasn't going to wait for him, because he walked just ahead with silent hope that Imayoshi doesn't overtake him, but unfortunately, soon, he felt distinctive, masculine fragrance. He even thought about to turn toward the bus and go home, but he really wanted to watch that match too.

He put frozen hands deep into the pockets, not saying a word all the way to the sports hall. Over there in the first hallway they passed Seirin team - he couldn't stop and curled lips in a charming smile and catch eye contact with Kiyoshi. He loved Teppei's idiotic naivete - with all his open frankness he believed not only in the mental support from Makoto, but that, he also feel guilty about causing injury. Pathetic, susceptible to manipulation kid.

Imayoshi didn't missed it, and also that Teppei returned smile to Hanamiya, in disgustingly beautiful way. It didn't bother him specifically, but at the moment he would gladly push Kiyoshi from stairs together with Makoto, with great hope that both of them breaks their necks. Of course, he didn't show absolutely nothing to know, otherwise he would have to commit violent suicide. After all he shield away from all the other feelings than aversion and disgust for Hanamiya, not counting physical attraction. Nothing in common. Certainly.

He watched the game with boredom, in contrast to his partner, who clearly was smiling in this nasty way, every time when Seirin earned points through good Teppei's actions. Blood flooded him when he saw how this idiot is satisfied.

The current situation of the Seirin team aroused considerable curiosity, that's why Hanamiya watched the game with unconcealed interest, propping his head on his hand and occasionally lifting the corners of the lips. You could say that he had forgotten about the presence of Imayioshi, not paying attention to him for an hour. Followed only high brunet who was moving in the gym. When the final whistle sounded, he allowed himself a small clap of general shake the rest of audience. Then he rose from his seat, trying to move along with the crowd to the exit.

"I'm going home. I don't want to look like you are sitting on the books." He turned to his companion. Actually, he never said he wanted to go with him to the library. Imayoshi put him with a fait accompli, and this one he could just ignored.

Imayoshi was disappointed with the result of the match. Seirin won, and Teppei unfortunately didn't even broke a leg. In addition, Makoto wanted to cheat him and leave him alone. At first he wanted to wave a hand on him, but he decided that this time he will not forgive. Someone surely have to wear books for him.

"You're going there willingly or I'll drag you there by force." He said and adjusted his glasses, which looked ominously, and his voice was a serious as ever. The matter wasn't just about books. Makoto wasn't stupid, Imayoshi also wasn't, but he counted on his little help anyway. "Choose. " Added by wrapping the scarf around his neck and at the same time blocking the way out.

"Do you think I have nothing better to do?" Hanamiya frowned, finally sighing heavily at the sight of a stupid smile on the lips of the other boy, which suggested that he must stand his ground. Remarkably unhappy he left the room. With enthusiasm the close of joy condemned man who had just lay down under the blade of the guillotine, he went together with Imayoshi to the library. He already devised a plan to make Imayoshi sick of all so much that he will regret his decision to death. He did not look ahead, so in a funny coincidence, he fell straight on, walking to the locker room, Kiyoshi. Hanamiya immediately raised his head, beaming in angelic, gripping heart, smile.

"I'm sorry, my fault. Very good game." He praised with friendly, gentle voice, which he never used while normal conversation. Teppei should wholeheartedly hate Makoto, but he thanked him kindly, giving him ridiculously charming expression. "Good luck in the competition."

Hanamiya past him, waving in gesture of goodbye. He loved to leave people in such confusion. They always believed that he really is nice.

Shouichi rolled his eyes seeing this lovely scene from which he wanted to puke. He grabbed the arm Hanamiya a little too tight than he wanted, and pushing him little forward as if he wanted to hurry him in that way. He had no idea why the behavior of that jerk teasing him today even more than usual, and why it is so poorly responsive to Teppei, but in thoughts has killed both in the worst possible ways, enjoying at the same time as a small child. He didn't want to allow himself thinks that this might be pure jealousy, because surely Hanamiya absolutely don't deserved it. Anyway, they went together to the library, again without saying a word to each other. That idiot's company was tiring for Imayoshi, but at the same time in some strange paradoxical way, he always tried to prolong the moment of their separation as far as he could. When they got to the public library, it turned out that besides Ms. librarian there is no one else in here.

"Push me again and I'll rip your arm and I'll kill youwith it, you son of a ..." Hanamiya paused, noticing sitting behind a desk, an older woman and gave her a polite smile, relieved accepting the fact that she didn't hear his words. He cared very obsessed about the image of a well-mannered, nice boy, with whom he had, of course, nothing to do.

On the initiative of brunet, which was pushing Makoto again, they went up for the farthest table.

"Bring me 'History of Europe' by Herbert Evans." He said pulling out his notebook and smiling in not enough honest way. "Please." He added, though the tone of his voice didn't have anything to do with a ask.

At the sound of 'requests' once again that day Makoto wanted to respond with aggression. However, he thought that the sooner the boy will finished his work, the faster will give him peace of mind, so he quickly found the wanted volume. It was very easy to navigate in the archives and catalogs, where objects lie ordered by specific patterns. Resisting the temptation to whack Imayoshi with book in the face, he put it in front of him, reaching for a random book for himself, to avoid unnecessary contact. Hanamiya let him to work for a few minutes in silence, but when the book from page to page was getting more boring, he expressed his dissatisfaction with annoying grunt.

"You don't look especially pleased, and you were so happy with today's match. Normally your mouth doesn't close by comments." He snorted, tapping two fingers on the colored cover of the book. "Kiyoshi holding up nicely. I'm surprised that he can play so well with the injury."

He spoke these words out loud, but he not really care if bespectacled listening. He just wanted to express observation.

Imayoshi usually was, after all calm and composed, but today something in him snapped. He just couldn't resist it. He really tried hard, but at the sound of words 'Kiyoshi' or 'Teppei', he wanted to kill someone. He stopped writing his work, put the pen and intertwining fingers rested his chin on them. He looked at Makoto. His face adorned expression of annoyance and dissatisfaction.

"Are you in love?" He asked, in a tone as if his interlocutor, not depending on the response, had to get hit in the face with a chair. "You like Teppei?

Driven by anger and jealousy, leaned heavily to Makoto almost touching his nose.

"Would you like him to fuck you, hm? Would you like him to touch you?" He stated more than asked, putting a hand on his cheek, stroking it with his thumb which was simply not normal and could mean trouble.

"And maybe when you're at home alone, then you think about him when you touch yourself? Are you imagine what he could do to your body?"

He was just angry and just jealous. He wanted Makoto to knew it and wanted him to denied everything.

"When I fuck you, are you too imagine Kiyoshi?" He slid his hand from Hanamiya's cheek and hooked a finger on his lower lip. His voice was low and deep. There was something frightening in it, but at the same time, it was damn exciting. "Am I right, Makoto?"

He couldn't believe his ears. Imayoshi always kept his cool composure, hidden behind a mysterious, unpleasant smile and refrained from commenting on anything that had even an indirect relationship with Makoto. He wasn't interested how he spent his free time, what movies he likes, how much sugar he's adding to coffee... Nothing. Makoto hd been his, when they closed the bedroom, outside there was nothing, no even a superficial relationship. So why now he was boiling with venomous jealousy and lust for murder? He grabbed him firmly by the wrist and pulled his hand from his cheek. No. For Kiyoshi there was no place in his head, not now, not ever. But if brunet so deeply snared by his own delusions, there was no chance that Makoto will ignore them.

"None of your damn business. I don't care what you're doing, but spear me." He didin't know if he more hated Imayoshi in despotic madman mood or a charming idiot, but the current situation somehow exceeded a certain limit. Anyway... Imayoshi gave him clearly to understand that he feels threatened. More, emphasized its real right to such feelings.

Angry aura emanated from his full force, though his face remained the delicate, sinister smile. The person on the side wouldn't be able to see how much Imayoshi is upset now, but for someone who knew him just a little bit, it was obvious as an open book. He clearly didn't like something, and he gave it the know. He did not move, despite the fact that his hand was so brutally repelled. Instead, put his hands on Makoto's shoulders and clenched his fingers on them in painfully way, which was further proof that Imayoshi was abducted by a UFO and subjected to 'brainwash'.

"If once again, I'll hear the name of this fucking boy with your filthy mouth, you can be sure that the newspapers write about the unfortunate accident, the tragic death of two well-known, in high school, basketball players. Do you understand?" Shouichi never raised a hand on anybody and nobody ever threatened, and now he spoke these words with such ease and in a voice so sincere that it was not hard to believe. When he was sure that the message reached the Hanamiyia's consciousness, moved away from him slowly with too charming and beaming smile that was as artificial as his apparent calm.

"Who the the fuck do you think, are you?" His voice could be heard gentle shaking because of accumulated anger. But do not fear. How could he afraid of someone who really does not hurt a fly? Of the two, Makoto could be called a sadist, but in the words of brunet sounded something specific, which didn't allow for their disregard. He refrained from raising his voice.

"It seems to you that I have any commitments to you? Nota couple. I'm not 'yours' just as you are not 'mine.' You will not tell me about who I can, and about who I can't think of.

He was disgusted with the fact that, indeed, lying in a dark room at night, overwhelmed with excitement when his body demanded touch, he imagined Imayoshi's hands. Not Teppei's, or anyone else, but just that damn moron.

Imayoshi silently took a deep breath to calm down and cleared his throat meaningfully straightening his jacket. He shifted in his chair and grabbed the pen turning several pages of "History of Europe". He was silent for a long while adding a few sentences to his work.

"You're aren't a couple and we don't have any obligations towards each other." He admitted and put pen to his lips again, focusing on the text contained in the book. "But I can't imagine anyone else in my bed than you, Makoto."

It was true, and he had no intention to front. He also happened to imagine Hanamiya during lonely nights. He never thought of anyone else in way he thought of him, and although he didn't like it too much, he couldn't replace his face with any other imagination.

Hanamiya shuddered, looking at him for a moment, as if searhing for deception, attempted of manipulation, or anything that would give him the feeling that this is not true. But Shouichi seemed a bit embarrassed by frankness of his own words, which in itself bordered on paranoia. He had no idea how he should react. What if that's what he meant? About extortion confirm?

He shifted slightly in his chair, turning his gaze away.

"If I would like to fuck with someone else, I would do it."

But he didn't want to. Shouichi was the person who stole his first kiss. He became the first allowed to touch his body, and Imayoshi is the only one who, can make him so deliciously and painfully horny. He didn't know what kind of 'bed life' had brunet, but for Makoto, he was always the only one. No one else.

"And don't call me by my name, it's ridiculous..."

"I like your name." He admitted, feeling a kind of relief when he heard that Hanamiya doesn't want to 'fuck' with anyone else.

He glanced at Makoto over his glasses and he scolded himself in his mind when he found himself on the fact that he is watching other boy's face with an exaggerated interest. He saw in it something new, something he couldn't identify and name, but it certainly wasn't anything that could turn him in a negative mood.

"Go home if you want. I'll Be fine." He said starting to scrape carelessly in a notebook. As a very intelligent and well educated person, his writing syle was so ugly that sometimes he had trouble to read it.

"I will stay, since you dragged me here." Makoto was surprised at his own, ill-reaction, because at the moment he didn't dreamed of nothing elselike about returning home, and now desire to remain forward with his hand completely automatically. He took off the nearest shelf a book and tried to look very interested in its content. What is actually going on in his head? What was that annoying, gripping his throat, feeling?

When Imayoshi finally decided to finish this part of the job, Hanamiya lifted from the spot and followed him to the exit, on the road with a smile saying goodbye to the librarian. He didn't want to pull the phone out of his jacket pocket, but judging by the appearance of the skyit had to approach the evening.

"I'm going to my sister's for the weekend. Do not call me." Usually he didn't informed Imayoshi about his absences, he just didn't answer the phone, and then he didn't explain, because he didn't saw the need. In general, he didn't talk about himself too much, limiting the potential to answer questions unless he was in a good mood. What happened rarely.

"I'll miss you." Shouichi said this such a tone and with the same expression on his face that it was absolutely impossible to guess whether he is telling the truth or make just a joke out of it. He wanted to leave other boy with this in mind and with the tiring toxic uncertainty. He wrapped up his beloved scarf tightly before they left on the outside, and he immediately put his hands deep into his pockets. He wished he had brought with him the gloves.

He said goodbye to Makoto by lifting the hand when dismissed to his bus stop.


End file.
